Annex
by sithmarauder
Summary: Challenge fic. The year is 2043, and Switzerland's close alliance with Austria is threatening Germany's position in the new world. So what happens when Germany's boss sends Germany to annex Austria... at all costs? Germany/Austria, non-con. Author is retrospectively wishing this didn't exist.


**Title: Annex  
Author: sithmarauder  
Pairing(s): Germany/Austria, past Prussia/Austria, and mentioned Switzerland/Austria, because it's my OTP.****  
Disclaimer: Not mine, _meine Freunde._****  
Dedication: For anyone who likes this pairing, and for themidnighthour.  
Prompt: Challenge from themidnighthour: "Germany is ordered to annex Austria once again, but this time he gets a flat-out refusal. Maybe some non-con, nothing too graphic, and hints of past Austria/Prussia, just for the angst of Prussia being gone?"  
Warnings: Non-consensual. Rated M for very obvious reasons.**

Honestly, I was surprised with the request, but I feel honoured at the same time :) And so, I hope this is sort of what you had in mind. Sorry it's so short.

AU. Set in 2043, in another fictional crisis (sort of). Or at least a pre-crisis. Non-detailed. I was lazy.

Italy and Hungary's intervention is straight from the episode, and so is some of the earlier text, though I have modified the message a bit. Anyway, their speech is italicized so you know what came from the episode and what did not.

Hm. So, expect some OOCness, because there's no way Germany would ever do this, and you all know it.

A quick note: The first song Austria plays I got from a video on YouTube. Unfortunately, the girl did not know the title of the song. However, if you would like to find it, as it really is beautiful, search "Beautiful and haunting piano song 1". It's by **flamurtari1912. **The second song is the piano part from Tarja Turunen's _Oasis_, which is part of the _My Winter Storm _album. I kind of wanted him to play Chopin's Nocturne op. 9 no. 2, but… that'd be, like, almost too cliché for him, you know?

I take other requests.

-x-

He hadn't wanted to. Not initially.

"_Inside this letter is your next mission. Read it carefully."_

It went against his internal code of honour, despite the things he'd been made to do during the past. And this… this was even harder than any of those.

_Whenever I get my missions through letters, it's always an unpleasant one._

How absolutely right and simultaneously wrong he had been.

Staring at the letter, the German nation's eyes narrowed until he was almost red with rage.

"_You are hereby ordered to put Austria under your protective custody, by any means necessary."_

And he knew, all too well, what "protective custody" meant to his boss. It was basically an undisputable choice for the other nation—join him either willingly and without struggle, or by force.

He knew why he was being ordered to do so, of course: Switzerland's armies were becoming frighteningly powerful, not with size, exactly, but with skill and weapons, and though the man maintained his country's neutral status, Germany's leader didn't trust him anymore than the blue-eyed nation himself. And Austria always had been close to the Swiss man, more so than they had originally believed, especially after their friendship had broken apart.

Still…

"_Wait, I refuse to do this mission! I don't want to do it!"_

"_Germany, this is an order from your superior!"_

And that was the end of that. After all, what power did he really have? He was the land, the people, but he controlled nothing. Not when it really counted. He, like the other nations, was simply a pawn.

And now this pawn was about to betray his once-ally in the worst way possible.

-x-

"_Germanyy!"_

The taller nation turned around as one North Italy, commonly referred to as just "Italy", latched onto him from behind, his face twisted into a mask of distress. Still holding onto him, the clinging country gave him a pleading look, his eyes closed as usual.

"_I'm begging you! Please don't annex Austria!" _ He cried.

"_It's not like I have a choice! This is part of my job!"_ Germany snapped back, his voice rising, though his anger wasn't directed completely at the Italian. Moving to open the door to the room that he knew contained his target, the blonde detached himself from Italy's grip only for the other nation to leap forward, attempting to haul him back.

"_No, don't do it! Germany, don't do it! Stop it, stop it, don't go through with this!"_

The shorter nation was quickly joined by Hungary, who had obviously been roused by the commotion.

"_He's right! Please consider Mr. Austria's feelings!"_ She pleaded, her voice beseeching. He could see faint tears glistening on her face, as well as that of Italy, and he forced himself to turn away and continue pulling on Italy's grip in and effort to make him let go.

"_Be quiet! Let me go, you two!"_ Germany shouted just before pushing forward, the door easily swept aside as he entered. "Leave me…" These last words were quieter as Germany turned and slammed the door shut again, barring the two other nations from entry even as he heard them pleading from beyond.

But Austria was nowhere in sight.

Anger rising slightly, Germany allowed himself to visually sweep the room, looking for any sign of the Austrian's tell-tale appearance.

What he discovered instead was a slow, haunting melody coming from a hallway to the left.

It was… he couldn't describe it. It was like a beautiful stream rushing through a forest, accompanied by the winds and… no. Spirits, it… it went to far for him. He wasn't like England; he had given up believing in spirits long ago. Spirits and his own freedom. Magic, if you would. It simply wasn't real—he had to keep his mind… rational. Rational and free of thoughts he should not be thinking, such as disobeying his Führer.

It was funny how one man could twist such a title. His country's name for leader, originally part of the title _Führer und Reichskanzler_ ('Leader and Chancellor of the Empire'), had been assumed by Adolf Hitler in the year 1934, and come to imply something completely different: a tyrant, or a ruthless leader.

Back then, Austria had joined him without hesitation. But would he now? After all, nearly a century had passed since 1945—a whole 98 years since the Second World War's end. It had been 105 years since he had added Austria's territory to his own, and the man had offered almost no resistance then. Italy and Hungary had repeated their same words, and had opposed the annex to the end. But Austria never had. Would he now?

Germany shook his eyes as the music continued to persist. But as he drew nearer to where he knew the piano room was, the music got quieter, until it had faded completely, and he was unable to hear it. Trying to tell himself sternly that this was by no means an awful thing, Germany moved to the closed door, only to hear another song pick up.

While the first had been like refreshing water, projecting a slightly haunting sound, this one was like all the world's mysteries rolled into one equally mystifying cry.

And it made him stop in his tracks.

Still, he had his duty to do, music or not. And so, straightening his spine, Germany allowed a neutral expression to fall over his face as he stepped into the Austrian's piano room, well aware that the man considered this a form of sanctuary.

"Germany," Austria said without getting up or pausing his playing, and Germany noticed a steaming cup of tea on the low coffee table, which was glass surrounded by wood on the top, with legs like curled, cedar vines. Adjacent to it were deep crimson-coloured couches of pure Victorian design, matching the gauzy drapes that framed the windows, pulled back by a single golden rope.

Something that surprised him was how Austria's piano was no longer the center of the room. Instead, it was slightly to the left, angled towards one of the far windows. Because of this, the couches were closer to the door, but also more to the right.

Still, the instrument was the same thing—a black grand piano, decorated with gold in some spots.

But it was Austria who caught Germany's full attention.

The man had abandoned his blue coat, which he could see draped lightly over one of the couches, in favour of a simple white shirt. Of course the cravat was still there, as per usual, but it wasn't as… obtrusive, instead blending in with the slight gray of the other man's top. He also wore a simple pair of brown pants, and his glasses were firmly in place over plum-violet eyes, which were closed at the moment as the nation swayed lightly to his own music.

Germany had never understood why pianists moved like that.

Brown hair was a mix between immaculately groomed and messy—like Austria had smoothed it all down and then run a hand through it for that mussed look, and once again, the guilt slammed full-force into the German nation, as his grip on the doorknob became painful.

"Austria. I've come with an important message from my Führer."

Austria didn't reply, but Germany knew the other man was listening by the way his head inclined slightly to the left. Prussia had often nattered on about how Austria often pretended to be oblivious, but was really hyperaware of everything that went on, even when he was deep into a song. His brother had then gone on to explain how _he _had been the one to install this sort of caution into the Austrian, which Germany hadn't had trouble believing. Even before they had gotten together officially, Prussia had spent more time here in Vienna than back at home.

Germany waited stiffly, hands still clasped behind his back as Austria slowly stilled the piece and turned to look at him, reaching up to quickly fix his glasses.

"Germany," he repeated, standing and giving the blue-eyed nation a nod. When Germany said nothing, Austria frowned. "You said you had an important message for me?" The pianist prompted, placing one hand on the edge of his piano.

"Yes. By the order of my Führer, I am to put you under my 'protective custody.' Any attempts at resistance will be dealt with most harshly."

Austria blinked, violet eyes registering surprise at Germany's tone. "I…"

"Please make this easier on both of us and just agree."

Austria had turned away from the blonde and was now running a finger or two across the polished top of his piano. Without saying a word, the aristocrat walked over to one of the massive windows, his arms crossly lightly over his chest as a strange expression crossed his features. "Why?" He asked, and the question was so sharp it made Germany pause for a few seconds.

"I think you know why."

There was a pregnant silence, then: "No."

Germany felt a surge of both panic and anger race through his system at those words. "So you are sleeping with him," the blue-eyed nation snapped.

"Whom I choose to 'sleep with' is none of your concern," Austria said coolly, violet eyes flickering.

"How could you betray him like that?"

The question caused Austria to exhale sharply, his face closing off as his eyes fluttered shut. "Germany… Ludwig… You know as well as I do that if Gilbert were here right now, he would be saying, 'Jesus, Specs! Took you long enough!'"

Germany winced. It was true, and he could almost see a tiny red-eyed silverette floating around his shoulder, grinning maniacally. Prussia and Austria had loved each other once, yes – Austria probably still did, in his own way, but Prussia's own words were the ones ringing in his head right now, the last time he had been moping about Italy: _"Why bother wasting yourself over something you can't change, West? Go tell him! Love only happens so many times, so take it while it's offered! Idiot. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."_

Austria was still standing by the window, but his position had shifted slightly, with one hand curled lightly around the back and side of his own neck, and the other grasping his elbow. Germany kept his spine straight and eyes focused ahead, waiting for the man to speak, as he knew he would. Or rather, he thought he would, but when Austria continued to avoid looking at him with stony silence and an expression to match, Germany felt his temper spike.

"How long have you been sleeping with him?"

Austria whirled around, eyes blazing, no longer controlled behind an icy, disinterested exterior. "Three months. Gilbert has been gone for almost one-hundred years, Ludwig; it's time you accepted that!" he snapped, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Vash and I have known each other for centuries, and while I was just as shocked as you look now when he suggested the alliance…" Austria shrugged then, retreating behind his mannerisms once again, back stiffening and eyes frosting over.

He looked… pretty like that. Almost alluring. Combed wavy hair, guarded violet eyes, pleasing features, and a slim body… No one 'settled' for Austria – they strove to be worthy of his attention, whether positive or negative; they fought wars and bloody battles just to possess him, or gain his attention. And even though everyone knew Austria had always lacked in military strength, the image of Austria himself – the man and nation – was always an impressive site.

It was surreal, Germany noted, how Austria always managed to maintain his appearance – his air of dignity – in almost all situations.

He wondered just what it would take to break it. The look of superiority, the glint that appeared in his eyes when he was _so damn sure_ of what he was doing.

The change in him was almost immediate. Germany's eyes narrowed on Austria's prone form as the aristocrat turned back to the window, not even acknowledging his once-ally's presence. His stance, once stiff and flawless, had shifted to an almost predatory one as he approached the pianist.

What would it be like to possess? Yes, once he had owned Austria, but owning and possessing, he was told, were two different things – especially when they concerned two different people.

Austria had given into Germany without a fight during Hitler's rise to power. It had been as simple as that. There had been no need for anything else, and back then, _he _hadn't needed anything – or anyone – else. Italy had been enough.

But Italy…

He didn't want to think about Italy.

Germany was close enough to feel the faint heat radiating off of Austria's body, as he felt a powerful feeling seize his body, sparking torrents of heat to spread every which way.

Lust, pure, unadulterated lust. He wanted to hold, to touch, to taste, to _possess and own and occupy_ the man in front of him in every way possible.

Reaching out, Germany grasped Austria's wrist, his mind dimly registering the fact that the aristocrat's skin was surprisingly cold to the touch, but that didn't matter right now, because Austria was looking at him, and in his eyes was surprise, wariness, and a touch of, oh, was that fear?  
"Germany?"

When Germany said nothing and continued to stare, Austria tried to pull his wrist away, and let out a slightly strangled cough when he could not.

"Germany, please let go of me – this isn't funny."

Germany merely tightened his grip, the look in his own eyes intensifying as Austria's widened in response, the fear more evident.

"Germany, _please_, you are frightening me – cease looking at me like that!" Austria's voice was filled with authority, but the slight trembling the blue-eyed nation could feel offset it. With a predatory smirk, Germany leaned down and pressed a small kiss to the inside of Austria's wrist, letting out a low chuckle when Austria responded with another pleasant shiver that sent desire shooting to every edge of his body.

"L-Ludwig!" Ah, the tremor was audible now, and Austria tried to yank his wrist away again, harder this time, sensing, for the first time, the true change in his once-ally. But Ludwing ignored the feeble act, his grip like steel as he slowly kissed up Austria's arm, moving the sleeve up as he did so.

"Ludw—" But he didn't have time to finish, for this time the German tilted his head up and crushed their lips together, effectively ending the verbal communication as Austria began to struggle with his whole body.

There was no gentleness. The kiss was raw and domineering, leaving no room for guessing; no room for weakness; no room for hesitation.

Germany wasn't hung up on particular taste. There were no flowery scents, spicy aromas or tastes; there was just Austria, and the faint traces of the tea he had been drinking earlier, and _oh God it was so good_. The feel, the way Austria struggled valiantly – it only served to intensify the need; strengthen the desire. The sensuous movement of his lips against Austria's made his pupil's dilate slightly – moving, feeling, tasting, exploring – and, if the involuntary moan that had just escaped his former ally's throat was any indication, Austria was feeling the same way, quite against his will.

Biting down on Austria's lip, Germany chuckled as the violet-eyed nation let out an involuntary gasp, as he knew he would – really, the Austrian was so predictable that way. It was easy to play to his reactions, and to accurately predict how he would respond to certain things, like how Germany's hand had moved to the pianist's hip, lightly untucking the shirt before his hand slid under, ghosting over and teasing the pale, surprisingly sensitive skin underneath.

Austria's breath hitched as Germany broke away again, his attention shifting to Austria's taut and pale stomach, which he kissed lightly, enjoying the slight spasm it induced.

"G-Germany! Ludwig! Please, stop this, I can't – " Austria's voice was pained, but his sentence was again cut off by a compulsory moan as Germany licked a spot on his stomach before blowing on it lightly.

"Oh, God…"

"You really need to stop doing that." They were the first words Germany had said in awhile, and as he lightly undid the front of Austria's crisp white shirt, he wondered how the pianist would take it.

"S-stop doing w-what? Germany, please, I'm begging you, release me now, I – " Another moan, this time as Germany turned his attention to Austria's neck, nibbling and sucking on the soft, easily marked skin.

"For someone who doesn't want this, you sure aren't putting up much of a fight," Germany murmured before biting harshly, causing Austria to cringe and arch slightly.

Suddenly, Germany's anger was sparked again. Those who did not fight did not deserve the mercy they were often shown.

Austria had never fought. He relied too much on the strength of his friends and allies to protect him and his country – relied too much on the marriages and alliances that linked his country to others in a promise of support.

Briefly, Germany spared a thought for the House of Habsburg. After Spain had left and turned on him, Austria had been swiftly defeated.

Without his allies, Austria was nothing – he was weak, and indifferent.

And Germany could not condone that.

Apathy was death, and those who did not fight for what they wanted did not deserve to get it.

That was enough. Gripping Austria's shoulders, Germany spun him around and crashed the other into one of the walls, ignoring the pained cry of shock as he attacked Austria's chest and neck again, repeating the moments from before with malice.

He could feel Austria pushing at him, now – pushing and shoving with all his strength, and writhing to try and break the stronger nation's grip, but his body still hurt from the impact, and his actions were weak as a result.

Like him.

Looking up, Germany leaned in closely, until his mouth was right next to Austria's ear.

"Apathy is death," he whispered, repeating his earlier words. "And none of your allies are here to save you now."

It was a blur after that. He remembers sharp protests – pleas for him to stop, to think, to consider – but he ignored them. He ignored them as the sharp words turned to suppressed sobs as he forced the other to the floor and loosened and removed articles of clothing until it was only skin against delicious skin, and the heat was enough to drive him mad.

He didn't think, he merely acted on pure instinct as he trailed lower and lower, hearing but not registering Austria's moans and cries.

And when he finally possessed Austria, made him his for the first time as his body screamed in ecstasy, he paused to let his thoughts catch up, to savour the moment as his body moved back and forth, up and down, in and out, and it was so hot, so tight, so unbelievably _good._

He knew Austria had had many lovers – many marriages and many partners – over the years. A country built on these things – made powerful by these things – he would have been used to this.

So as the sounds from Austria's mouth became nothing but moans of pleasure – even if it was unwilling pleasure, as the mind and body were two separate things – Germany found himself wondering how many others had seen Austria like this: wanton, keening, so incredibly gorgeous as he tossed his head back and forth and moaned and arched and _moved_, his face marked with sweat and his glasses still settled somewhat crookedly on his nose, for Germany could see them still, even though one of Austria's arms had come up to cover his eyes, those lovely violet eyes, hidden from view.

Austria was beautiful. And right now, he was _his__._

Shifting their positions so that Austria's legs were more supported on his broad shoulders, Germany's breathing became even more ragged and uneven as he pounded into the man beneath him, watching with utter fascination as Austria screamed with rapture as he hit that spot just right, over and over, again and again.

When the climax was upon both of them, Germany's accompanied by a guttural growl and Austria's with a cry like never before as he arched up, brown hair plastering to his neck and forehead, time seemed to almost stand still, even if just for that small moment.

Germany panted as he collapsed on top of the other nation as Austria breathed raggedly, the arm that had been covering his eyes sliding to the floor as he stared at the ceiling. His body was screaming at him now, aching, exhausted, but he didn't care.

The monster – for that was what it was – was still within him, still craving Austria. And so, Germany shifted and moved up, pressing a solitary kiss to Austria's still and unresponsive lips.

The aristocrat's shirt hung from his shoulders and spilled onto the marble floor still, and his glasses remained, and one hand rested lightly on his stomach, while the other rested up near his face. Germany did nothing. The guilt would come, he knew; when he was at home, sitting, and when the scale of what he had done finally caught up to him, he would regret everything – everything he could never take back. He would mourn, and he would shut himself in until someone came to order him out, whether it was his leader or one of the other nations, but he would not speak of what had transpired here. He knew Austria likely wouldn't, either.

"_Es tut mir Leid, Österreich,"_ Germany said as he pulled away, pushing himself from the ground as he glanced once more at Austria, whose breathing was now normal, but who was still yet to respond to anything.

Germany pulled the remainder of his clothes on over his body, hissing at the sticky and uncomfortable feeling, and made his way over to the door, his handing resting lightly on the handle before he pushed it down and exited the room.

And as he retreated down the hallway, his posture stuff and immaculate once more, he missed the quiet, whispered response Austria gave him as he inhaled deeply and turned his head towards where Germany had stood only moments before.

"_Als ich bin, Deutschland. So sehr traurig."_

-x-

"_Es tut mir Leid, Österreich,"_ – "I am sorry, Austria."

"_Als ich bin, Deutschland. So sehr traurig." – _"As am I, Germany. So very sorry."


End file.
